A quick shower later, I take the elevator up to the gentlemen’s club and fight the need to run away and swim more laps in the pool.
I check the time. Six fifteen. I should be in the office reading my morning debriefs now. My routine is a mess.
A few acquaintances greet me and I force out a fake smile and make small talk—ask about their kids, grandkids, the new sports car they got. Unlike the fresh-faced Delaney, who felt like he had something to prove, I’ve earned my right to walk these halls.
I’m a worthy Anderson now.
A few minutes later, I enter our private room, finding the gang all gathered by the dining table. Their heads snap up in my direction.
I should thank Rex for warning me. My lips twitch. Damn Rex. He may fool everyone with his devil-may-care attitude, but deep down, he has a sensitive soul.
He knew I’d need the heads-up.
“I’m here. Now what?”
I plop down in an open chair and Rex slides a fresh cup of coffee in front of me.
“Steven got drunk off his ass at a racetrack when he and Grace had the debacle. Maxwell punched Ryland in the face when he was in his shits with Millie,” Elias murmurs from the corner, his green eyes sharp as he plays with his damn lighter again.
“Hold on. How did you know about that? You weren’t there,” Steven mutters, throwing a glare at him.
Elias arches his brow, the movement drawing attention to the long scar marring his face.
“Fuck. Pretend I never asked. I wouldn’t be surprised if our phones are all equipped with surveillance cameras or some shit.”
Everyone shifts in their seats and eyes their phones.
Elias’s lips quirk up. “Surveillance cameras? That’d be too juvenile.”
I roll my eyes. “Your point, Elias? Why are we all here?”
“Let me finish. Maxwell got into a car accident when he was racing in the fucking rain while he was going through his issues with Belle.”
“Like you never made a poor decision in your life.” Maxwell shakes his head, then scrolls through his phone.
“Poor decision, yes. Stupid decision, no.” Elias snaps his lighter shut. “And I continue, then there’s Charles, well he…”
Elias frowns.
“I what?” Charles lifts his brow, a wide grin on his face. “Wasn’t an idiot like the Andersons were with women?”
“Hey! Don’t include me in the mix. I’m single,” Rex grumbles.
“You’re an idiot all the time,” Ryland supplies and twirls a fountain pen in his fingers. The fucker is already grading papers. I have him to thank for putting Alexis in my orbit again with his internship improvement ideas.
“My point being,” Elias resumes his annoying lighter flicking habit, “you guys are ridiculous when it comes to women.”
Charles clears his throat.
“Fine. Vaughn excluded. So, when a little bird told me someone was screwing with his routines, canceling meetings, dancing at a nightclub—”
I frown. Hold on a second. This sounds familiar. Too familiar.
I stare at my friend and he falters, then shrugs.
“Watch where you’re going with this.” I glare at Elias, then look at Charles, who’s cocking his head to the side.
I’ve never told anyone about what happened at Mystique with Alexis. How all common sense flew out the window when I caught her in my arms—when she pressed herself against me and melted into my embrace.